


Outing The Academy

by Mi_Impossible



Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Klaus Hargreeves, Bottom Klaus Hargreeves, Canon Compliant, Coming Out, Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, Gen, Good Brother Ben Hargreeves, Good Brother Diego Hargreeves, Good Brother Klaus Hargreeves, Good Sister Vanya Hargreeves, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Incest, Internalized Homophobia, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Gets A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves' Canon Asphyxiation Kink, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Lesbian Vanya Hargreeves, M/M, Or not she could be bi/pan, Pre-Canon, Prime 8's, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Protective Vanya Hargreeves, Punk Diego Hargreeves, Punk Vanya Hargreeves, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Self-Hatred, Sex Tapes, Slut Shaming, Vanya Hargreeves Deserves Better, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Vanya Hargreeves-centric, You can't tell me she's not wlw tho, apparently that's not a tag wtf, it's up to interpretation, mlm/wlw solidarity, vanya hargreeves gets a hug, well it is now deal with it ao3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2019-11-15 07:55:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18069542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mi_Impossible/pseuds/Mi_Impossible
Summary: Most people get to choose when to come out to their families and the rest of the world. Then again, none of the Hargreeves children ever had the privilege of a life like that of "most people."





	1. So Alone

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking about the ways being raised in the public eye would fuck someone up, as one does, and this rolled into my head  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Truly the greatest loss in the TV adaptation was teen Vanya's spiky hair, so that had to be included  
> Fun fact: Prime 8's doesn't have a tag on ao3. Sorry ao3 that's changing if my draft fics are anything to go by, I love those two stupid kids and their terrible amazing band  
> The underage tag applies to the second chapter more than this one, if anyone's wondering

Vanya had spent her whole childhood wanting to be in magazine articles, interviewed on live TV, gossiped about in tabloids, her every deed on the front of every newspaper. She wasn't naturally someone who wanted to be in the spotlight, but sometimes her lack of a spotlight was so glaring that it was brighter than all the lights of Broadway. She had just wanted to fit in with her siblings. Be universally popular and well-liked like Luther and Allison and Diego and... Well, any Hargreeves child who  _wasn't_ her.

With adolescence came anger, and Vanya moved past all the envy and sorrow. She didn't need to fit in when she could be herself. Diego agreed with her. The Prime 8's kicked ass, hard. Expressing herself through music had always been easy for Vanya, and through the band she and Diego shared their anger with the world. As it turned out, the world wanted to share their anger with Diego and Vanya too, and the feedback loop they created screeched and made people's ears bleed like nothing else. It was beautiful.

Why was it that when Vanya had  _finally_ gotten past her craving for belonging in a tabloid magazine, her face finally hit one?

Vanya looked at the magazine in her shaking hands and resolutely did not let her tears fall. What business did anyone have shoving their ugly noses into her business like this? How would they even have known where to get something like this? She looked at her bedroom door. In all honesty she didn't even know if all the questions running through her head were targeted at the people who had managed to run the article or whoever had slid the magazine under her door.

Dropping the magazine onto her bed, Vanya ran her hands through her spiked hair and clenched her jaw.  _Fuck._  She stalked over to her window, threw it open, and screamed her head off.

No one would notice. All of Vanya's siblings had left for a mission early in the morning, far before she was even awake.

Vanya approached her bed and the paper abomination resting on it as though it were a sleeping beast. She looked at the headline and hated herself with everything fibre of her being.

_The Umbrella Academy's BIGGEST SECRET: The Real Reason We Don't See Seven!_

It was accompanied by a photo of Vanya and Emily leaning against the side of the dive bar the Prime 8's had played two nights ago. She winced. In the photo they were attached by the face, and she was now going to have to apologize to Emily for what looked like the very painful grip she had on her left breast.

The article made it seem like Vanya's entire life and upbringing had been due to her liking girls. As though that had been obvious when she was adopted. As though that was a self-explanatory reason for her existence being shrouded in mystery. As though that was something that would have to be hidden.

 _Diego_ didn't even know Vanya was dating Emily. He knew they had hooked up once or twice, but that wasn't the same thing as literally anyone who walked past a low brow newsstand knowing that she liked girls. The whole world could know now. The rest of the academy would know now, and  _oh God,_ she couldn't breathe.

Vanya didn't think she knew Sir Reginald Hargreeves well enough to accurately guess what his reaction would be. He would know, without a doubt. He kept tabs on media coverage of the Umbrella Academy with precision the FBI would be impressed by. He might berate her for creating bad press for the academy. It wasn't hard to picture. That lecture would probably be similar to the one she and Diego had received when he found out about the Prime 8's.

The worst thing Vanya could possibly imagine, however, was disgust. She had no idea what Sir Reginald's opinions on sexuality were. She had spent her entire life not knowing whether or not he was homophobic, and now that she might know soon, she was  _terrified_.

Vanya did not realise that Sir Reginald Hargreeves' response could, and would, be something far worse.

* * *

The days that followed were Hell for Vanya.

When Vanya talked to Emily for the first time after the article was published, Emily was distant for about an hour before ending the date by saying that she really wasn't ready for the kind of commitment it took to be in a serious relationship with "someone like you." As in someone who had the world's most fucked up family and attention in all the wrong ways. Right when Vanya thought the Umbrella Academy could not fuck her life up any more, it came crashing in and wrecked her first real relationship.

Every time Vanya tried to go anywhere she was hounded by low-rent reporters and wannabe paparazzi with nothing better to do. She was receiving fanmail, if you could call it that. She hadn't read any of the letters sitting at her place on the kitchen table every morning for fear of what they would say. It also felt like if she acknowledged that anything had happened, she would have to talk about it. On the third day after the article, her phone number leaked. She got dozens of calls that day, and some people were bold enough to leave voicemails when she didn't pick up.

It became clear to Vanya that all of the other members of the Umbrella Academy had received copies of the article too. Diego told her that they had been slid under their doors before they woke up the same way Vanya had received hers. Apparently the article had been their only form of entertainment on the way to that day's mission. Responses varied immensely.

Luther had made passing remarks about  _bad press_ and the negative effects it could have on the academy. He also threw in some bullshit about how Vanya was a part of the team and how she had effects on morale, which once upon a time would have delighted her, but just made her roll her eyes now. She wasn't sure if Hargreeves had put him up to it or not.

Diego felt betrayed. He was the sibling Vanya was the closest to, thanks to their shared musical endeavours and love for punk music. He was an outsider in the academy too. He wasn't interested in pleasing dad like Ben and Luther, and didn't care about hero stuff the way Luther did. He didn't even care about the attention the way Allison and Klaus did. (The eternal question: who was the bigger attention whore, Klaus or Allison?) Diego had trusted Vanya, and thought they were close enough that she would have immediately told him about a  _girlfriend_. He was not a naturally trusting person. What else could Vanya be hiding from him?

Allison had gotten weird around Vanya, which was  _great_. They used to be able to share the bathroom sink and have idle conversations in their underwear. Now Allison would grab a bathrobe and cover up as quickly as possible, smile awkwardly, and start a pointless conversation that was stilted in a way their interactions had never been before. Vanya wanted to scream,  _"I'm your sister!_ " but considering it was Allison, who thought it was fine to be dating her brother, that probably would not have helped.

Klaus. Well. Vanya couldn't be one hundred percent certain, but she was pretty damn sure he was the one who snuck into her room in the night and drew a rainbow on her hand in Sharpie. Mostly because the next morning his nails were painted in the pink-purple-blue of the bi flag, and when he waved at her across the breakfast table he wiggled each finger individually and smiled conspiratorially. (She was also pretty sure she saw the cover of the magazine taped to his wall when she walked past his room, but it was obscured by a cloud of pot smoke and kind of far away, so maybe not.)

Ben was quiet, like always. He didn't say anything, and he didn't exactly doanything. He just looked at Vanya with a sad expression on his face when he thought she wasn't looking. She did not like it. She did _not_ want his pity. But she knew he meant well, so she did her best to ignore him. It may have been that he was making his sneaky sympathetic faces behind her back because of how accustomed he was to being gossiped about. For the most part the Hargreeves kids' powers were self explanatory, and if people had questions they just asked. But _The Horror_  seemed like something that had to be spoken about in hushed whispers. Something that might be just a _little_ bit shameful. Something like liking girls, apparently.

Two weeks after the initial article Vanya had finally had enough. She was a fairly patient person, but the press coverage of her sexuality showed no signs of slowing down. One night people crowded around the stage door after a Prime 8's gig asking about her relationship with Emily, and wouldn't let her leave until Diego threatened all of them with immediate dismemberment. That was when she knew, as much as she didn't want it to be true, that she would have to talk about the article.

* * *

Walking up to the doors of Sir Reginald Hargreeves' office had always been terrifying to Vanya. Usually the fear was unfounded since he was far too busy to be bothered with acknowledging her existence, even when she thought something was important enough that she decided to disturb his solitude. Somehow, after sixteen years, that knowledge still didn't comfort her.

Vanya took a deep breath before knocking.

"Who is it," Sir Reginald droned, voice completely monotonous.

"Van- Number Seven, sir." Vanya cringed at her slip up. That would probably piss him off. And it pissed her off that the notion of her adoptive father getting angry scared her.

"What is it."

Vanya held her breath. "I wanted to talk to you about something. Sir."

Hargreeves sighed deeply. Vanya could hear him shuffling papers around on his desk through the door. "You have three minutes. Enter."

Opening the door cautiously, Vanya peered into her father's study. He was looking at some papers on his desk and frowning. She walked over to his desk and carefully sat down opposite him. Sliding a copy of the magazine across the table into his line of sight, she began. "A couple weeks ago-"

"Still on about this, are we, Number Seven?"

"What?"

"Pardon," Sir Reginald corrected.

"Pardon?"

"The article is several weeks old at this point in time. It is of little import to anyone, and of no interest to me."

"But, father I, people are still trying to contact me, as you say it's been several weeks, all my siblings know, and," Vanya blustered, confused and frustrated. "There have been more articles since."

"I would be shocked if there had not been," Sir Reginald said, not looking at Vanya, but signing the bottom of a page on his desk. "And how many times must I tell you not to call me father?"

"My phone number leaked!" Vanya blurted.

Sir Reginald Hargreeves looked up at Vanya for the first time since she had entered the room, and made eye contact with her for possibly the first time in her life. "Number Seven, how, exactly, do you think the press got that number?"

Vanya's mouth dropped open. She was not proud to admit it, but she just sat there, mouth hanging open, for a good ten seconds, completely and utterly dumbfounded. "What," was what she finally got out in a weak voice.

"Pardo-"

"Fucking _pardon_?" Vanya shouted, voice cracking on the second word. "It was _you_?"

Sir Reginald looked at Vanya, unblinking. "Of course it was me. How did you think the original article made it into your hands? Where did you believe the copies your siblings received came from?"

" _Why_?"

Hargreeves turned back to his desk and papers, like the coward he was. Easier to look at the numbers and facts and plans and whatever the fuck else he spent his days working on than face their real-life consequences. "To teach you a lesson." He waved one hand at Vanya. "Dismissed."

* * *

Later the same day, Vanya caught Diego by the wrist as he was rushing out the door after Luther and the others. "It was him. He slid the magazines under our doors. Gave the press my phone number."

Diego furrowed his eyebrows. "Who?"

"Dad."

"That  _bastard_ ," Diego hissed, shaking his head. "I should've known."

Someone called Diego's name, but Vanya couldn't tell if it was Luther, Ben, or Klaus. He looked at her apologetically. "I gotta go. I'm sorry Hargreeves is such an asshole to you."

As Diego turned to leave Vanya tried to say, "it's not your fault," but he was already gone.

Standing in the empty front hall of the Umbrella Academy with nothing but her thoughts, her brother's thudding footsteps still echoing in her ears, Vanya had never felt so alone.


	2. How Is He Breathing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hair colour changes from comic to show were caused by Klaus, Ben, Allison, Vanya and Diego dyeing one another's hair as teenagers you can't change my mind  
> In red riding 1974 Robert Sheehan plays BJ, hooker and fashion icon, who has splotches of orange in his hair, so we have the privilege of knowing that suits Klaus  
> Are the notes just me justifying orange-haired Klaus to those who aren't familiar with the comics? Yes they are.

Okay, so maybe this wasn't how Klaus had intended to come out to his family.

Maybe Klaus had intended to _never_ come out to them. He was completely certain they all already knew, anyways. It wasn't like he was very secretive about it. Who needed to have a big  _coming out_ when you could just set off every gaydar in existence without saying a word? He was not the biggest fan of assuming people's sexuality or conforming to stereotypes, but Klaus could admit that he was pretty clearly not entirely straight.

(Although if Klaus met an entirely straight dude who acted and dressed exactly like him he would have been in complete support, for the record. Defy those stereotypes theoretical straight Klauslike guy! You go.)

The point was that Klaus was in a constant state of  _pretty fuckin' obviously not only into women_ , and he had never felt the need to state it like it was some kind of revelation. It just was and always would be. He did not have to come out to anyone, because they all already knew.

This, Klaus had to admit, was very different from his siblings knowing in the abstract sense that he wanted to canoodle with other guys.

Too high to be as freaked out as he should have been by what was going on, Klaus sat in an enormous armchair that made him feel like a child and stared blankly at the image being projected onto the wall. He idly thought that this was probably worse than the time he had told Allison that he wanted her celebrity crush of the hour to strangle him. Or the time he said, "I'd let him  _blow_ me up, if you know what I mean," to Diego about the eldest son of an important family they had just rescued from a bomb threat. " _Explode_ and all, y'know?"

Klaus, even high Klaus, could admit this was pretty bad.

Sir Reginald Hargreeves' eyes scanned over his students, sprawled through the the library with varying levels of shock on their faces. Eyes settling on Diego, who looked the most composed of the lot, Hargreeves gave an almost imperceptible nod, as though his plan was going swimmingly, thanks. "Number Two."

"Y-yes," Diego cleared his throat and restarted. "Yes sir?"

"Can you tell what this image is?"

Klaus looked around idly, pretending that he was just another one of his siblings. Just another person who had a life that was not directly impacted by what was on the projector screen.

Diego swallowed very hard. "It looks like porn. I'm not sure other than that. The image is blurry, the lighting is bad..."

"Thank you, Number Two," Sir Reginald sighed, tone of voice betraying impatience. "That would be because the image is a still."

Luther frowned. "A still? Sir, you don't mean that this is from a vi-"

"Yes, Number One, I do mean it is from a video. The website the video was found on is well-known as a distibuter of child pornography, but it is owned and run by a man with connections to the Italian Mob. Catching him and getting a charge to stick is not something the police are capable of. It is your new mission to take him down once and for all. This image," Sir Reginald said, pointing at the projector screen with his cane, "is child pornography."

Klaus snorted.

Hargreeves turned his face to Klaus without looking away from Luther. "Have you something to say, Number Four?"

"Not exactly a child," Klaus muttered, ramming his chin in the direction of the projector screen. It was not clear to anyone but himself and Sir Reginald which of the people in the image he was referring to.

"That is not for you to say, Number Four, it is for the law to say. It is illegal to be in possession of, create, or distribute pornographic material containing persons beneath the age of eighteen, therefore we will be attempting to take down this website."

"How do you  _know_  either of those people are under the age of eighteen?" Allison asked, gesturing to the bordering-on-obscene image on the projector.

The still showed two people. The first was a blonde man with his head thrown back in what was presumably pleasure. He appeared to be on the receiving end of some pretty stellar head. His face was completely visible, and while he looked fairly young, his face did not scream  _teenager_. He had a white-knuckled grip in the fluorescent orange hair of other person in frame. All that was visible of the second person was their back. Their arms were tied behind their back with a belt, and they were shirtless.

"The man on his knees is seventeen," Hargreeves stated, his voice betraying nothing.

" _Man_?" Luther asked incredulously.

"It's true that he doesn't have a waist..." Ben mumbled.

Diego leaned over the back of his rickety wooden chair to glare at Luther. "Wanna say that in a different tone of voice?" His tone of voice was far sharper than any of his many knives.

"Number Two, we are not here to discuss Number One's stance on homosexuality. Number Six, we are not here to contemplate the aesthetic value of a porn still."

Ben blushed a deep red and looked at the carpet. The front of his shirt was undulating a bit from wriggling tentacles, which was just as standard a display of embarrassment as blushing by Ben standards.

Hargreeves covered the projector with a piece of paper and started clicking things on computer hooked up to it. Diego took the opportunity to flip Luther the bird while Hargreeves was busy. Luther scowled.

When Hargreeves flipped the paper up to reveal the thumbnail of the video, Klaus' heart sank. Well, it would have if he had been sober. And it would when he sobered up. Which would never happen, so essentially what was about to happen did not matter to him. No, really. He did _not_ care. At all.

Hargreeves did not start the video from the beginning. Klaus was grateful for that much. It would have been terrible to sit there in silence with his siblings gaping around him for the entirety of the video. Instead Hargreeves clicked to about three minutes before the end of the video, and after a moment Klaus realised it was probably worse.

No one had time to brace themselves.

The tinny sound coming out of the computer's speakers was deafening in the silence of Hargreeves children committed to a mission. Or possibly the silence of shocked Hargreeves children. The smack of skin on skin was the most glaring noise, followed by harsh breathing.

Luther had turned a shade of pink that was incredibly unbecoming. His eyes were darting around rapidly, looking anywhere except at the video.

Orange hair was on his hands and knees on a bed. Well, shoulders and knees. His arms were still behind his back, and his face was being pressed directly into the mattress by blond hair.

"How is he  _breathing_ ," Diego muttered to himself. His eyes were as wide as saucers, and while he looked taken aback, he kept watching. He clearly felt he had a duty to show he was mature enough to handle watching something like the video for the sake of a mission. Or maybe he felt he was obligated to finish what he had started.

Wriggling like a fish out of water, orange hair struggled against the belt around his wrists. Blond hair smacked his ass and kept going.

Allison had one hand over her eyes, but was peering through her fingers every few seconds. She would glance from Hargreeves to the video, then cover her eyes again. The expression on her face clearly said  _what the everloving fuck_.

On the screen, blond hair was spitting filth into orange hair's ear, using demeaning terms that Klaus was going to have to add to his vocabulary. He had definitely heard them before, but wow. Recollection at zero. Some of the were pretty creative, too.

Ben was looking at the floor for the most part. But when Klaus glanced at him again, he was looking at Klaus' hair with a facial expression that was somewhere between pensive, concerned, and disgusted.  _Shit_. Of course Ben would be the first one to put two and two together.

Orange hair gave a loud whine that the mattress did not manage to muffle, and blonde hair pulled him up by the hair. He gasped for air.

Every set of eyes turned away from the screen, off the carpet, stopped darting. Every set of eyes looked at Klaus, perched in his massive armchair.

Well. Everyone except _Sir Reginald Hargreeves_. He was leaning against a bookcase, reading a book whose title was in Latin.

On screen, blonde hair did something with his hips and orange hair made a noise that might have been a scream if he there had been any oxygen in his lungs. "Fuck, please," he gasped, his voice raspy but familiar all the same.

Klaus felt the staring intensify. He could actually _feel_  it, like fog in the air on a cold night. He stared off into space, trying to look like he wasn't coming down from his high. Like he was still higher than a kite. Like he was _never_  coming down. When he got bored of that, which was rather fast, he looked down at his nails and started picking at his nail polish. This was just another boring mission briefing, _obviously_. What were his siblings looking at him for?

Once the whole ordeal was over (also known as when the video was over, which was when Klaus could at least _pretend_  it was all over), it became apparent to Klaus that he had chosen the right course of action. Mostly because he was not the only one taking it.

The members of the Umbrella Academy received all of the information available on the mission from Hargreeves as per usual, and he sent them on their way. He gave them files, links, arrest records for the suspect in question. Everything they could possibly need to succeed.

Sir Reginald Hargreeves did not acknowledge or even allude to the fact that the young man getting the living daylights fucked out of him in the video was Klaus.

Neither did Klaus.

* * *

Everyone was tiptoeing around Klaus, and he was not a fan. If anything his siblings should have been treating him like he was _less_ breakable than they had before the Porn Incident. (Klaus was capitalising it in his head because it sounded kind of badass, if you thought about it the right way.) If that video proved anything, it was that he was not at all delicate and did _not_ like to be treated as though he was. He could take it and then some.

The only one of Klaus' siblings who was actually present for the Porn Incident who spoke to him about it was Ben. At around two in the morning the day after their briefing on the mission, Klaus' bedroom door creaked open, and Ben crept into the room. "Hey," he whispered and slid under the covers of Klaus' bed, touching Klaus' shoulder gently. Without asking. You know, like a dickhead.

Klaus wasn't about to admit it, but it reminded him of when he had nightmares when he was little. Ben, who was a very light sleeper, had sometimes heard him talking in his sleep, snuck into his room, and given him hugs. In return, Klaus had always stayed up late on days Ben had used his powers. He would sneak into Ben's room and tell him that he was _not_  a monster or ugly or evil or shameful because of his powers. It had all been nauseating, looking back on it, but Klaus thought it was probably one of the reasons he was still clinging to what little sanity he had left. Still alive and breathing.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Klaus took a swig of the almost-empty vodka bottle in his left hand. He then sucked vigorously on the straw of the Capri Sun in his right.

Ben gave him a sad look.

"It's just a screwdriver. Cutting out a couple steps." Klaus thought Ben was being rather judgmental. Was gastro cuisine not the height of culinary fashion? Deconstructing things was _in_. If it didn't apply to booze, something was very wrong with gastro cuisine's priorities.

Somehow, that statement did not stop Ben's sad look.

"Want some?"

Ben took the Capri Sun from Klaus and took a hesitant sip. "Are you okay?"

Klaus took an enormous swig of vodka, seemingly unperturbed by the newfound lack of orange juice in his deconstructed screwdriver.

"Klaus?"

"Peachy. Completely wunderbar," Klaus slurred.

"Seriously, Klaus. Are you alright?"

"Ben," Klaus started, screwing the lid onto the bottle of vodka, placing it on the floor, and looking Ben dead in the eye, "I don't know what you're on about."

" _Klaus_."

"What."

" _The video!_  Dad _made us all watch it_ , and he didn't even make mention of - you know, who's in it! I know he's our dad, but sometimes I just wanna-" Ben cut himself off.

Klaus snorted. "Yeah. Yeah, me too."

"That's why I wanna know if you're okay."

"Benny, the video wasn't something teenagers should ever, _ever_  have to see with their dad in the room. Let alone be shown by him," Klaus slurred, swaying despite being in a sitting position. "Our family has never been quite normal though. C'est la vie."

"Klaus. Klaus, I'm not talking about us. I'm talking about _you_."

"Was there like the rest of you. Saw gay porn with my adoptive father in the room, an' it was scarring. We were all there. We're all scarred." Klaus was silent for a moment then added, "more. Than we were before."

" _Klaus_."

"That bottom bitch had pretty wicked hair though, didn't he. Kinky fucker, total _slut_ ," Klaus spat with what seemed to be actual venom, "but, y'know. Cool hair."

" _Klaus!_ "

Klaus let his head drop onto his pillow and pulled the covers up. He turned to face away from the Ben. "Late," he mumbled. "Gonna sleep."

"Klaus..."

"Should sleep too, tentacle porn boy." When Ben made no move to leave, Klaus added, "night."

The conversation was over. There was no question about it.

* * *

 Klaus lay awake after Ben had left, steadily hating himself more and more as the minutes passed.

 _Fuck_ , Klaus had been such an _idiot_. He had _known_  the cameras were there, he had _known_  that a video like that would be easy ammunition against him. He had cared, in a roundabout sort of way, but not enough to outweigh his own spectacularly bad decision making skills and desperation. Jacob had offered to tie him up, choke him and hit him. How was Klaus supposed to resist that?

Kinky fucker, total _slut_.

Klaus started laughing. At least he thought it was laughing until he felt tears on his face and his body wracked with sobs. Seriously? He didn't know why he was crying. This was what he got for being in a dealer with benefits relationship with a guy backed by the mob. He had known bad shit could happen from the very beginning.

The money. Klaus would have gotten Jacob money he owed him. It wasn't _his_  fault that Jacob's drug prices were _highway fucking robbery_ , and that it was taking him a little bit longer than normal to find enough valuable stuff to pawn off for cash. Jacob had told him he had until Friday or he would give the tapes to a contact of his who would make sure they were seen. Or maybe he had said _last_  Friday? Fuck. Maybe Klaus had been late.

Either way, it was Klaus' fault.

As much as Klaus thought he had calmed down, it then occured to him that there were _tapes_. Plural. He was hit with another wave of ( _pathetic_ ) tears. He could barely breathe. The video his family had seen was, in all honesty, tame in comparison to some of the other ones.

Klaus was so fucked, and not in the fun way. He couldn't even be mad about it. The only person he could blame was himself.


	3. Disappointment

Something was wrong. Vanya could tell with every fibre of her being. Everything the six realmembers of the Umbrella Academy had done since the mission briefing the night before was  _off_ somehow. Vanya, of course, had not been there for the mission briefing. She would have been a waste of space since she was incapable of helping on missions. Though she wasn't very close with most of her siblings, she didn't have to be to tell that something was very, very weird.

It had something to do with Klaus.

Didn't it always.

The atmosphere at the breakfast table was odd right from the get-go. Usually Vanya's siblings would  _kind of_ interact with one another, even if it was just Allison asking Ben to pass the jam or Luther and Diego kicking each other under the table. (Diego was stupid like that. He always went for violence even though Luther had  _superhuman strength_. Their hatred-fuelled footsie matches had led to a lot of broken shins for Diego, and yet he continued to participate.)

There were no thuds from under the table accompanied by Diego wincing. There was no talk of jam. Ben didn't even have his nose buried in a book. There was complete silence and stillness, except for Mom puttering around the kitchen table refilling people's orange juice and wiping up crumbs. The only movement from the Hargreeves teens was the arm movement required for eating.

Klaus was the last one down to breakfast every day. It wasn't out of the ordinary when he dragged his feet into the kitchen like some kind of pseudo-goth, still-alive, teenage schoolboy zombie a good half an hour after the rest of his siblings. What was out of the ordinary was his puffy red eyes. Red as though he'd been smoking, yes, but also... As though he'd been crying. It was hard to tell through the eyeliner, but it was there.

Vanya glanced around the table. No one seemed likely to comment, so she didn't either. However, in glancing around at her siblings, she saw their reactions to seeing Klaus.

Luther blushed as soon as he laid eyes on Klaus. Luther was easily embarrassed, so it didn't seem too upsetting that he was blushing at the sight of Klaus. Klaus did a lot of things that made Luther blush. A lot of his clothes, all of his jokes. Vanya just assumed that Klaus had told an extremely rude joke the day before that Luther still couldn't handle. Or maybe he was remembering the fishnets Vanya had let Klaus borrow yesterday. Either way, normal.

Diego looked shell shocked. Vanya had seen documentaries about veterans and PTSD, and even with that knowledge the term  _shell shocked_ wasn't too strong. He looked like he was about to keel over. Similar to how he looked when he saw needles, but worse. Less fear, more resigned.

Allison looked disgusted. She looked at Klaus for a long moment then shook her head almost imperceptibly and looked back down at her plate. Vanya was really wondering what the joke he had told was at this point.

Ben looked really sad. He kind of looked sad a lot of the time, but this wasn't the  _I think I'm a monster_  sad, or the  _my internal eldritch creatures and their tentacles are causing me great pain but I'm not allowed to tell anyone that_  sad. It was similar to the look he gave Vanya after the tabloid fiasco, except about a thousand times sadder.

All four of them looked disappointed. Which, to be fair, was not all that uncommon an emotion to direct towards Klaus.

Klaus dragged himself into his usual seat, five pairs of eyes tracking his movements. The silence continued. Once Klaus had food on his plate and had put jam on his toast he gave an enormous yawn and declared, in an exaggeratedly jovial voice, "My ass hurts!"

Luther blushed again. But that wasn't it. Diego's mouth was gaping open slightly, and he was looking at Klaus out of the corner of his eye as though he couldn't believe Klaus had said that. Allison was staring down at her plate as though it held all of the secrets of the universe. Ben was tucking tentacles back under his shirt, a clear display of embarrassment. It took a lot for Ben to blush, but his monsters were easily embarrassed. He also looked like he was about to cry.

It didn't make sense. Klaus said stupid shit that was meant to display his sexual prowess _all the time_ , even when it wasn't true. He liked making inappropriate or off-colour jokes constantly. Not always sexual, sometimes about death or old people or whatever else people get sensitive about, but it was constant.  _My ass hurts_ was tame. Standard. Kind of low quality in terms of Klaus jokes. He had said almost the same thing a million times before.

What made this time any different?

Glancing at Klaus, Vanya saw that he was assessing their siblings' reactions too. He looked like a combination of amused and smug. The word  _vindication_ popped into Vanya's head.

Vanya kicked Diego's ankle under the table as gently as she could. She didn't have any interest in the violent sort of foot wrestle her brother was usually partial to.

Diego glared at Luther halfheartedly. After a few seconds of watching Luther slurp up plain oatmeal lethargically, he seemed to realise that the kick had not been perpetrated by Number One.

Coughing gently to get Diego's attention, Vanya raised her eyebrows and mouthed, "What the Hell is up," at him.

A frown appeared on Diego's face. He looked at Klaus out of the corner of his eye. He then mouthed what looked like a single word. "Out."

"What?" Vanya asked at a regular volume. She cringed at her mistake.

Almost all of Vanya's siblings looked at her. Klaus kept his eyes downcast as he wolfed down toast without any consideration for politeness or table manners, spraying crumbs everywhere. Mom was looking on contently, holding a cloth in her hands. Vanya was pretty sure Klaus crumb damage control was in her programmed duties for each day.

"Nevermind," Diego rolled his eyes. "I'll tell you about the song I was writing after we're done eating."

Song? What song?

_Oh._

There was no song. Diego was going to tell Vanya what was going on. Which meant she absolutely had been right. Something was up. At least she would be in the loop after Diego had told her. All of her siblings may have known way before her, but still. Most of the time she was just left out of the loop. When she wasn't, it was all down to Diego.

"Okay. I'll meet you in your room?" Vanya managed to get out. "Because. That's where your bass is?"

Diego rolled his eyes again. Vanya was not a good liar, and that lackluster explanation of why they should meet in his room was a classic example. At least he had come up with the flawless cover story of discussing a new song before Vanya had managed to shove her mucky, bad excuses fingers in. Otherwise their whole family would be trying to shove their noses where they didn't belong to figure out what was up.

* * *

Shutting his door with the barest pretence of nonchalance, Diego turned to face Vanya. He leaned against the door and crossed his arms, hoping that anyone who wanted to enter would knock first, and if not, that his weight would be enough to stop said anyone from barging directly into the room. There was no such thing as privacy in the Umbrella Academy, and none of the Hargreeves children had the privilege of doors with locks.

Vanya was practically vibrating in place where she was standing at the foot of Diego's bed, scuffing the toes of her combat boots against the frame. "I don't know whether to act all serious or just incredibly desperate and curious."

After due consideration, Diego said, "You'd regret either," matter-of-factly.

" _Great_ ," Vanya sighed, dragging the word out into a groan. She collapsed on Diego's bed with a twist that managed to spin her so that her feet were on the pillow, then looked up at him. "Get on with it then, before I can act in a way I'll regret."

"It's the new mission."

Vanya sighed again.

"We're taking down ch-" Diego squeezed his eyes shut with a look of extreme irritation on his face. He was sick of his stutter. "Child pornographers."

"Shit, D," Vanya breathed, sitting up and making eye contact with Diego. "At least your hearts will be in it? I mean, sometimes Hargreeves gets you guys to do stuff you don't give a fuck about, but this has to be something you're actually interested in stopping."

Diego let out a humourless laugh. "You have no idea."

"Why is Klaus all weird though?"

Looking up from glaring at a spot on the floor by his feet, Diego raised his eyebrows at Vanya.

"Weird for Klaus, okay? Weirder than normal," Vanya amended. "And Luther looked embarrassed as Hell. Well. Actually all of you did? The Horror was even getting in on it."

Diego sighed. He chucked his uniform blazer in the vague direction of his desk chair then flopped onto the bed partially on top of Vanya, who grunted. "Dad made us watch some."

"Some... what?"

"Damnit, Vanya," Diego growled, throwing an arm over his eyes. "The fucking porn. That was the mission briefing."

Vanya snorted. "You mean. You watched porn with the old man in the r-"

"Not funny," Diego moaned. "Really not funny."

"I guess I can see how that would be scarring."

"Not just that. Just -  _fuck_ ," Diego mumbled,  sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "We're taking these people down because they distribute underage porn."

Vanya's heart sank. "I can see how watching that would be bad, yeah."

" _Not just that._ God fucking damnit," Diego spat, leaping to his feet and starting to pace.

"Diego?" Vanya asked cautiously.

"It was - _fucking shit_ ," Diego said, sounding like he was near the verge of tears. He slammed his fist into the wall he shared with Luther. "It was Klaus."

"What did he do?"

"No, not like that. Klaus was -  _shit_ ," Diego took a deep breath, "Klaus was in the video."

"What?"

"The video the old man showed us. It was Klaus in the video."

" _No_ ," Vanya breathed.

Diego kicked at the bottom of his bedroom door. "At first you couldn't tell, except that godawful hair."

"You literally let him bleach your hair blonde after you saw what he did to his own," Vanya sighed with the impatience of someone who had been a part of this particular argument many times. "You like Klaus' hair."

Running a hand through said bleached hair, Diego said, "That's not the point. The point is," he stopped himself for a moment and cringed before continuing, "his hands were belted behind his fucking back, and all of his siblings have seen him being smacked while also being, y'know," he made a suggestive motion with his hips. "There was asphyxiation involved. It was  _bad_. It wasn't softcore."

Vanya ignored the fact that Diego had used the term  _all his siblings_ in favour of being shocked. "And dad  _showed_ it to you?"

"You, of all people, shouldn't be surprised he's willing to out one child to the rest through video or photo evidence."

"I guess," Vanya mumbled, cringing. "This is kinda different though."

"Not even remotely," Diego said in a monotone, kicking off his shoes and collapsing on his bed next to Vanya again. "It's the tabloid thing all over again. More extreme, that's the only difference."

"Is Klaus okay?"

Diego scoffed. "He's Klaus. Of course he is. He was probably too high to care when it happened. And you know him," at this point his voice adopted a slow kind of slur, slightly higher pitched than his normal voice, that was clearly meant to be Klaus, "what's done is done, I'm making my life too short for regrets, push forward like nothing's happened."

Looking at Diego warily, Vanya said, "You know that's an act, right? He pretends not to care about stuff at all because if he admits to himself that he does he'll break down."

Diego looked sufficiently chastened.

"Has anyone talked to him? He looked like he'd been crying at breakfast today."

"He did?" Diego asked, brows furrowed as though he could not possibly understand why Klaus might have been crying.

" _Yes_. Has anyone talked to him?"

"I haven't," Diego shrugged. "Ben might've. He and Klaus always liked to cry all over each other."

"It's called  _emotional support_ ," Vanya said, rolling her eyes. "Do I really need to remind you who cried all over me on our birthday when Mom told him he was  _the sweetest sixteen_?"

"Shut up," Diego mumbled, turning red and glaring at Vanya.

Vanya smirked.

"I don't get a lot of compliments."

"Of all the kids who live in the house you get the least compliments.  _Sure_." Vanya looked unimpressed.

Diego shrugged, but Vanya knew that it was an apology. He was to stubborn and proud to ever really say sorry. "None of us do, much."

Giving a frustrated kind of snort, Vanya said, "Welcome to the Umbrella Academy."

"No fucking kidding."

There was a knock on the door. "Diego, sweetie?"

"Yeah, Mom?" Diego rushed to open his bedroom door, tripping over his discarded shoes as he did so.

"Training starts in five minutes, honey," Grace said, then noticed Diego's blazer crumpled on the floor. "Oh Diego, I know you can get it on the back of the chair in one throw. Be more careful, alright?"

"Sorry," Diego mumbled.

"I'll take this and iron it, you grab another from your closet." Grace carefully folded the blazer over her arm, then turned to Vanya. "I found a documentary about that violinist you like, and I thought maybe you'd like to watch it with me. We can make popcorn!"

Vanya gave Grace a small smile. "That sounds great, Mom."

"Pogo said he'd even be willing to take a report on it for your next English assignment!"

Vanya sighed.

* * *

"Psst!"

Vanya's head whipped away from where Mom was popping popcorn on the stove to look at the kitchen door. The top of Ben's head was just peeking around the doorframe. He made a motion with his head that might have been meant to beckon her, and thwacked himself in the process. Glancing at Mom, who was humming to herself and seemed occupied by the popcorn, Vanya ran out of the kitchen and dodged around the corner to lean against the wall with Ben.

Clutching at his forehead, Ben whispered, "Klaus is in his room."

"Okay?" Vanya said, confused.

"I mean that we were called for training, and he didn't show up. He's in his room, door locked. Well. Door barricaded with his desk chair."

"Isn't Hargreeves gonna notice you missing?"

"I said I needed to use the bathroom," Ben explained. He then added, looking guilty, "He never gets me to let The Horror out fully around the others, anyways. I think he knows I wouldn't be able to stop them if they got any ideas."

Vanya patted Ben's shoulder awkwardly.

"Listen, at the mission briefing yesterday, Dad sort of-"

"I know," Vanya whispered, giving an apologetic half-smile half-wince. "Diego told me."

"Oh. Well. Good." Ben smiled, relieved to find that he was not the only one trying to make sure Vanya was clued in to Umbrella Academy related things. "I talked to Klaus last night and he's... I don't know. Pretending the video has nothing to do with him." After a few seconds of silence, he added, "That he's not in it."

"How would you act if you were him?"

"The same in terms of not talking about it. But I wouldn't pretend not to know what Klaus was talking about if he asked me about it."

Vanya raised an eyebrow. "Like what I did with the tabloid."

"I guess," Ben agreed, cringing slightly.

"Hate to break to to you, but that wasn't great for my mental health either. Who's to say Klaus' method is worse?"

"He called himself  _kinky fucker, total slut_." The words sounded awkward coming out of Ben's mouth. He was more prone to using enormous words he had read in some book that no one else understood than to using profanities.

Vanya could imagine those words coming out of Klaus' mouth. Calling someone a slut as an insult seemed a bit out of character, but other than that it aligned with his regular speech patterns.

A thought struck Vanya. Was Klaus... Ashamed? Surely not. The guy had gotten obnoxiously friendly with various punk kids at Prime 8's concerts in full view of siblings, bouncers, bartenders and concertgoers innumerable times. Not to mention what he got up to with his more questionable, substance-related friends. He was very confident in his sexuality.

If the rest of Klaus' personality was a front, why not that?

"He framed it as being about the guy in the video,  _that bottom bitch was a kinky fucker, total slut_. He said it with such an _accusatory_ tone, I would have been really hurt if it had been directed at me."

"Do you think he's ashamed? Of being, you know," Vanya paused, trying to think of an appropriate word and failing, "sexually active?" She cringed internally. What an awful way to put it.

"Maybe. I don't think he was before this. Just," Ben sighed. "Dad had this look on his face, as though he was both completely indifferent to what happened to Klaus in the video and disgusted that he would do something like that. He was barely even paying attention, but it was definitely enough to sting."

"I know the feeling," Vanya muttered darkly.

"Exactly!" Ben exclaimed with such sudden enthusiasm that Vanya jumped a little. "I wanted to ask you to talk to him. He might be more willing to talk to you, as the person who probably understands the best."

"What, because I'm gay?" At Ben's horrified look, Vanya laughed. "I'm only joking. I know what you mean. Tabloid incident."

Ben looked relieved. "I really didn't mean to insult you or assume, I-"

"Yeah, I know. I'll do my best to talk to him. But first I have to watch a documentary with Mom."

"Thank you," Ben whispered, hugging Vanya. With the height difference, it was sort of what she imagined hugging a very soft wall wearing a superhero costume would be like. Ben said about three more variations of, "Thanks," at Vanya as he backed away.

"Seriously, it's no problem. I was gonna check on him anyways."

Vanya was telling the truth. She had been intending to check on Klaus. But now that she had told Ben she would, and he was relying on her, she couldn't just chicken out. Before she could have mumbled something at Klaus then given up when he ignored her. Now if she failed, Ben would be disappointed.

Fuck knew Vanya was already enough of a disappointment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted this to be 3 chapters long, but this one was getting so long that I had to split it in two, which is also why this update took so long  
> As always, kudos and comments are immensely appreciated


	4. Here We Are, Together

"Klaus?" Vanya whispered, tapping against Klaus' door in the same pattern he always used when he was bugging her through her bedroom door. "Klaus!"

A noise that resembled a groan crossed by a hum emanated from the other side of the door. "M'busy."

"Would you please let me in?"

"No!" Klaus sang in a singsong voice. "M'super busy!"

"You're super high, Klaus."

"Ah! Quelle surprise!" Klaus giggled. "I'm shocked. Shocked and appalled! To find that Klaus Hargreeves... Is  _high_."

Vanya sighed. This was not going well. "Klaus. C'mon. I'm bored."

"Tant pis! I'm having lots of fun all by me onesie."

Vanya sighed again. Time for a change of tactics. "I'll let you do my makeup."

There was silence from the other side of the door.

"Klaus?"

There was the sound of furniture scraping the hardwood floor, then Klaus' door creaked open an inch. One black-lined, red-rimmed, bright green eye peered through the gap at Vanya. " _Really_?"

"Yes, really."

Klaus flung his bedroom door open and chucked a sparkly black boa around Vanya's neck, dragging her inside by it and chanting, "Danke danke danke danke danke danke," doing a little dance as he did so. Vanya was absurdly reminded of some kind of lanky leprechaun with a pot of gold. She giggled at that mental image, and also. Pot. All too accurate, really.

After Vanya was unceremoniously shoved into Klaus' desk chair, she didn't really know what to do.

Klaus had dumped all the contents of his makeup bag out, and was rummaging through the various tubes and pencils (and, unsurprisingly, the occasional pill) now rolling around on his desk, humming to himself quietly. "I'm not good at subtle, okay? So you're gonna have to deal," he said, picking up a tube of black mascara and shaking it vigorously. "What colours do you want?"

"Uh, aren't you choosing?" Vanya did her best not to stare at the obvious tear damage to Klaus' own mascara.

"Obviously." Klaus grinned. "But I thought I'd be nice and make it seem like I was taking your opinions into consideration."

"Very kind of you, Klaus."

"Black on black it is!" Klaus exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "I could do something _ambitious_ , but I know anything glamorous will be wiped off by a certain sister of mine within minutes so..."

"Stick to black eyeliner and weird lipstick, Klaus."

Klaus held a hand to his chest, puckering his black lips and fluttering his eyelashes. "A woman after my own heart."

"Gross, Klaus, we're not Allison and Luther," Vanya said, fake vomiting.

Klaus cackled and joined in on the fake vomiting. Then his face went serious. "As much as I hate to bend to your will, black eyeliner and weird lipstick is what I'm good at."

"Go for it."

"And it would suit you."

"Just do it, Klaus."

"Alright, alright!" Klaus grumbled, grabbing an eyeshadow palette and a skinny brush. "Prepare to have your Klaus-doing-your-makeup virginity thoroughly deflowered."

As Klaus put together a shockingly large pile of cosmetics he intended to use on Vanya's face, prattling on about this and that, Vanya tried to think of something to say. It was nice to spend quality time with one of her siblings, but that wasn't why she had come to Klaus' room. She needed to see if he was okay.

Vanya was snapped out of her reverie by Klaus asking her a question. "So," he said in a dramatic tone of voice, stepping back. "Wanna tell me about your  _girlfriend_?"

"What girlfriend?"

"The big titty lady you got outed with, _come on_ ," Klaus groaned exasperatedly. "There's no way you've forgotten those babies." He groped the air. "There's photo evidence!"

Spluttering, Vanya said, "Emily is not big titty lady! Stop pretending to feel her up!" She smacked Klaus' hands out of the air.

"Ah so you do remember! It's just so sweet when girlfriends get all protective and territorial," Klaus sighed, pretending to swoon. "I haven't even met this girl and you're trying to keep my hands off her!"

"Yeah, 'cause you're a creep who gets it on with our fans all the time."

"You know how many of your fans wear their chokers too tight?" Klaus asked, grabbing the necklace he was wearing and tugging, pretending to choke himself with it. "Gets me going Vanya, it really does." He rolled his eyes back in his head and stuck his tongue out, letting out an exaggerated moan.

"Ew, Klaus!" Vanya exclaimed, trying to pry the necklace away from Klaus. "Stop it!"

Klaus held the necklace above his head, out of Vanya's reach. "Only if you tell me about this Emily."

Seeing her chance, Vanya took it. "Only if you return the favour."

"Huh?"

"Tell me about... Whoever it is you're getting it on with, and I'll tell you about Emily."

"Aha! I _knew_  some people wanted to hear about my canoodling!" Klaus said triumphantly, settling his necklace around his neck properly. "It's a fascinating subject." He looked Vanya dead in the eyes and said, "Our siblings are just prudes," in a serious tone of voice.

"They can be."

"Spill, Vanya. Now," Klaus demanded, crossing his arms.

"Um. I met Emily at one of our gigs."

"Sleeping with the fans, classy," Klaus cackled.

"Shut up," Vanya mumbled. "She told me she liked my hair, and asked how I did it."

"You're welcome."

Vanya scoffed. "You just helped me dye it black. If you tried to spike it properly you'd fail miserably."

"True, true. But I am a dye job master," Klaus said, flipping his own unruly head of orange. "Among other kinds of job."

"Klaus!"

"You're the one who wanted to hear!" Klaus whined, attacking Vanya's eyebrows with a brush.

Vanya glared at Klaus, albeit in a resigned sort of way. "Anyways. I said I could show her the product I used because I had it backstage, and when we got there and she had written down the name, she asked to see my guitar."

"Your guitar, huh?" Klaus wiggled his eyebrows.

"Not like that!"

" _Sure_."

"Okay, maybe like that!"

Klaus snickered.

"It was my actual guitar first, then she said I must be really good with my fingers since I'm a guitarist, and, yeah. Then. Then things happened."

" _Things happened_?" Klaus asked, incredulous. "I want _details_ , Vanya! I did not lure you in here with promises of makeup just to hear the words  _t_ _hings happened_! I already knew that." Klaus tutted dramatically.

"You didn't lure me in h-"

"I wanna know who made the first move!" Klaus leered, dragging out syllables conspiratorially. "I wanna know if she was aggressive! I wanna know if she was good, or bad, or alright! I wanna know if you made her co-"

"No. No in depth descriptions."

Klaus pouted like a child denied candy. "Fine. But just so you know, I'm not sparing  _any_ details now, just for revenge. I was gonna leave out the gross bits, but I will be describing precise noises and _everything_  now."

"Fine. She made the first move, she was good. And kind of aggressive."

"Of course she is. All of your lady fans are."

"You know this from experience?"

Klaus nodded, humming, and resumed filling in Vanya's eyebrows. "Tops, the lot of 'em. I'm not complaining though, love me some angry punks."

"That's a lie. I've seen your type. Scary women, sure, sometimes. But mostly the _most_  generic-looking, slightly buff, jock-like guys of all time."

Klaus shrugged, grinning and grabbing an eyeliner pencil. "I am what I am. Your gigs have endless supplies of scary women. And generic, slightly buff guys, except they're wearing chokers and pants tighter than their skin, which is," Klaus rolled his eyes back in head head again for emphasis, " _amazing_."

"You're so predictable." Vanya rolled her eyes with her whole head, nearly causing Klaus to poke her eye out.

"You are too, getting sidetracked when you're meant to be giving me the down-low on your big titty punk GF."

"Fine. We hooked up again, then I asked her out on a date."

"Ooh," Klaus said, his tongue poking out on one side as he smudged Vanya's eyeliner carefully.

"She asked me to be her girlfriend on the second date, and we were together for about two weeks."

"Wait, you're not dating anymore?" Klaus asked, stepping back and tilting his head to the side. "Pourquois?"

"Oh, you know, dad shoving his overlarge nose where it doesn't belong."

"Oh, yeah, that," Klaus said, wiggling his now extremely chipped bi flag nails at Vanya the same way he had a couple weeks ago after the tabloid incident. "You want me to draw a rainbow flag on your hand in Sharpie again? Y'know, as emotional support?"

"If you want," Vanya agreed, smiling slightly.

"Better idea, we're doing your nails rainbow!" Klaus proclaimed, dragging open a drawer in his desk and yanking bottles of nail polish out by the handful. Vanya could tell that at least three quarters of them were stolen from Allison because they were the expensive kind with recognisable brand names that she liked to spend her allowance on, when it struck her fancy. Klaus just stole the low quality drugstore kind for himself and spent his allowance on what he referred to as "Klaus things," which everyone knew meant drugs and leather pants.

"Aren't you going to finish my makeup?"

"Nah, it's good. You don't need lipstick, it's less fem this way," Klaus said with authority, turning away from where he was lining up nail polish in rainbow order and giving Vanya's eyeliner one final smudge for good luck. "You lean more towards butch anyways."

"Whatever you say."

"Right answer," Klaus said, snapping his fingers and pointing at Vanya. "Continue, though."

"Continue what?"

Klaus groaned. " _Emily_."

"That's all there is. She just said she wasn't ready for a relationship with  _someone like me_ ," Vanya sighed. "Here I'm too ordinary, and everywhere else I'm not ordinary at all. Why can't people just settle on one or the other?"

"You are special," Klaus said, shaking a bottle of O.P.I. red then opening it. "I mean, when everyone's special, the only way to stand out is to be ordinary."

"It fucking sucks, Klaus. Dad treats me like I'm worthless."

Klaus laughed. "That's the one way you're  _exactly_  like the rest of us!" he said with fake excitement, grabbing Vanya's hand and laying it flat on his desk, preparing to apply the first colour of the rainbow. "Welcome to," he paused, then added, in a shockingly accurate imitation of Sir Reginald Hargreeves' voice, English accent and all, "The Umbrella Academy!"

Vanya laughed bitterly. "Just. It would have been bad enough if the media was just speculating about me and running articles about my sexuality. But he had to go and give all of you guys copies of the original article and share my phone number with the press. You know he was the one who did that?"

Blowing on Vanya's two red nails, Klaus said, "Natürlich. Who else would it have been?"

Vanya knew she was riling herself up, and that Klaus wasn't likely to stop her, but she kept going. "And when I went to ask him to do something about it, he told me he had done all this to  _teach me a lesson_."

"Christ on a cracker. What a bastard."

"I just really hate him sometimes. What business is it of his who I want to be with? Why should I have to be taught a lesson when some person  _I don't even know_  decided to target me?"

"You got _no_  idea how much I agree with you," Klaus sighed, shaking his head and carefully painting a second nail orange. A few moments of silence and one switch of nail polish colour later, he asked, "Diego told you about the mission?"

"Yes," Vanya said hesitantly. She wasn't sure if Klaus would assume she knew it had to do with him, or how he would react to that conversation.

"Before you go all Ben on me, I like it like that, okay?"

Vanya blinked. "Excuse me?"

"He seemed to think there was something  _non consensual_  or  _abusive_  about the whole thing, but really," Klaus said dramatically, rolling his eyes, "I only  _agreed_  to it because Jacob said he'd tie me up and choke me, so."

Vanya blinked again. "And... The slapping?"

"A lovely surprise!"

"Who exactly is Jacob?"

Klaus looked around shiftily before admitting, "My dealer. Well. One of them. And probably not anymore."

"What happened?"

"Dad shoving his overlarge nose where it doesn't belong!" Klaus parroted.

"I'm sorry."

Klaus waved his hand around as though dismissing Vanya's words. "Don't be. My fault, really."

"Klaus, how could this possibly be your fault?"

"I _might_  have owed him a tiny bit of money, and he  _might_  have filmed more than a few of our little rendezvous, and there _might_  have been some blackmail about releasing certain tapes if I didn't get him his money by a certain day, etcetera, etcetera. Unimportant."

"Blackmail, Klaus?"

"Unimportant." Klaus reiterated. "What's done is done, and my life's gonna be _way_  too short for regrets."

Vanya did an involuntary double take. Diego had been right on the mark with Klaus' professed attitude towards life. Sometimes Diego knew his siblings shockingly well, especially considering how emotionally stunted he could seem.

"Klaus..." Vanya mumbled cautiously.

"What?" Klaus asked, shaking the green polish furiously. "You think I'm gonna live past twenty?"

"I mean, y-"

"Seems kinda unlikely if you ask me." Klaus shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, it's not that I _want_  to die," he added hastily, starting to paint with green, "my life is just... Inextricably linked with death. 'Tis _inevitable_  that I should die a _terribly tragic_  young death."

Sighing, Vanya said, "It's not inevitable, Klaus."

"I also get sent on _missions_  that put my life in peril like, at least twice a week."

"Count your blessings." Vanya grumbled.

"Oh! And the alcohol, acid, angel dust, vicodin, valium, speed, ketamine, ecstasy, cocaine, crystal meth-"

"Klaus, I think I get it." Vanya said shakily, kind of reeling at the fact that her brother had done _crystal meth_. (Thought not entirely surprised.)

"Yeah! That's probably not gonna help. Although..."

"Although?"

"I dont think I would even have lasted this long without drugs." Klaus stated.

"You should maybe look into some healthier coping mechanisms." Vanya suggested hesitantly.

Klaus scoffed. "What do you suggest? Playing thrashy music in a punk band until my ears bleed because I know dad hates it?" After a couple seconds of contemplation and blue nail polish, Klaus admitted, "Okay, that actually sounds like a good time. I give a _fantastic_  performance."

"Yes you do." Vanya laughed.

Picking up the purple nail polish with uncharacteristic silence, Klaus sighed. He remained quiet until he was done with the purple nail polish, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, as though he was thinking.

Vanya felt like she was holding her breath.

"Thank you," Klaus murmured, screwing the lid back onto the purple nail polish and sweeping all of the bottles back into their desk drawer with a clatter.

"Huh?"

"I guess I thought solidarity sounded like a nice idea that didn't exist." Klaus laughed shakily. "Like world peace. Or free drugs." After a moment he added, "Sidenote - Wouldn't the sixties have been _awesome_?"

Vanya elected to ignore Klaus' bizarre segue into the world of drugs, and instead focused on what she had proper answers to. "It's really easy to start feeling like you're alone."

"I _know_." Klaus' voice wobbled. He looked Vanya dead in the eye for the first time since he'd stopped doing her makeup, and his eyes were shining with unshed tears. Despite herself, Vanya felt her own eyes starting to water. Klaus had always had sort of infectious emotions.

Abruptly, Klaus threw himself at Vanya, landing awkwardly in her lap. The chair that was now supporting both of them creaked ominously. His arms were thrown around Vanya's neck to prevent him from sliding off the chair completely, and Vanya had a faceful of his perpetually weed-scented hair. Even though his sharp (and slightly wet) nose was poking her in the neck, she just put her arms around his waist and let him cry.

As long as Klaus didn't look up, he wouldn't see Vanya crying too.

"Fuck Hargreeves," Klaus mumbled into Vanya's shoulder. She could feel him shaking. "Fuck him."

"N-not really. He doesn't deserve to get laid."

Klaus gave a pitiful snort into Vanya's uniform blazer. "You do, though, my lovely supportive sister."

Vanya was silent.

"I, your fairy godbrother, do hereby decree that dad will not fuck up any more of your relationships. Your wish," Klaus lifted one hand weakly and waved it in a manner Vanya supposed was meant to look magical, "granted."

"I doubt that's gonna work, but thank you, Klaus." Vanya sniffed.

"Don't doubt my magic!" Klaus exclaimed. He raised his head to give Vanya a look of mock offense that was rather ruined by the tear tracks down his face.

"Really, thank you." Vanya took a deep breath "I get what you mean about solidarity seeming unreal. But," Vanya sighed, "here we are. And I'm _so_  sorry we are, but I wouldn't know what to do if I were here alone."

"Here we are, together in the place of being outed to the world by your dad through photo evidence!"

"Here we are." Vanya agreed "Can we leave now? I don't like it much. Kinda done with it."

Klaus smiled. Klaus smiled a lot, but Vanya had never seen him smile like this. Usually he smiled and laughed like nothing in the world mattered. This smile said that everything did, even if it was tearstained and covered in smudges. "I don't think I know you that well, sister dearest, but you _get_  me."

Vanya smiled, feeling the residue of dried tears on her face. "I think you get me, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. It's done.  
> Thanks to everyone who commented/left kudos while this was still under construction for motivating me, very few people manage that  
> Sidenote - the whole "Klaus' taste in men is the most generic looking slightly buff guys" thing is canon, look at Dave, it's a Fact  
> Kudos and comments are appreciated and'll still give me heart palpitations if they're left on this fic 10 years from now, so go for it


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